


A Not So Common Thief

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from the episode "The Resurrection."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Not So Common Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #13 under the pen name Laura Brush,

_"Where's Blackwood?"_

 

          He was simply going to have to kill Dr. Harrison pain-in-the-butt Blackwood.  That was the only plausible, satisfactory solution.  The only question left then was how to carry out the task…

          Fast or slow?

          Painful or merciful?

          With a weapon or his bare hands?

          A plethora of gratifying scenarios were interrupted by the drum of approaching feet.  A military policeman rounded the corner and proceeded to the cell door.

          "It's about freakin' time," the colonel grumbled under his breath as he pushed up off the narrow mattress suspended from the wall by short chains.

          He was moments closer to dealing Blackwood the final blow.

          "If you'll come with me," the burly Latino sergeant said, unlocking the cell and pulling it open before heading back down the hallway.

          Ironhorse followed, refusing to glance right or left where other men occupied several of the holding cells.  A few made verbal passes as he advanced toward freedom, a few tossed out derogatory comments concerning Indians and the military in general.  The colonel ignored them all, concentrating on the slow, painful death Blackwood would endure at his own hands.

          The sergeant reached for the handle of a heavy metal door and it was buzzed open from some control booth elsewhere in the jail.  He pulled it open and Ironhorse stepped past, emerging into the processing area where he'd been photographed and fingerprinted earlier.

          No sign of the traitor Blackwood.

          Well, he was only prolonging the inevitable.  There would be no escape.  No mercy.

          A petite female M.P. reached under the counter she stood behind and pulled out a shallow green tray and slid it across to Ironhorse.  With clipped precision he returned his wallet, ID case, change, comb, handkerchief, pocketknife, and other pertinent articles to their appropriate pockets.

          "Thank you," he said shortly.

          The woman smiled, watching him follow Sergeant Allosar out the door to the waiting area.

          "Now, that's a _not_ so common thief," she said softly to herself.  "Guess I should have joined the Army."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse punched through the swinging wooden doors leading into the waiting area.  Suzanne waited in one of the plastic chairs, reading a tattered magazine.

          She glanced up and smiled.  "Ah, ready to go?"

          Black eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room.  "Where's Blackwood?"

          "Heading back to the Cottage with his goodies," she replied, standing and grabbing her purse and jacket.  "Ready?"

          So close, yet so very, very far.  Still, he knew where his quarry was going…

          "Yes."

          Suzanne watched the colonel stalk out of the building, wondering if Harrison knew he was on Ironhorse's hit list.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Blackwood!"  The hallway reverberated with the aftermath of the bellow.

          Mrs. Pennyworth, passing by on her way to the kitchen, smiled indulgently and suggested, "Try the basement, Colonel.  Dr. Blackwood and Mr. Drake have been down there working all day."

          The colonel nodded curtly and stalked to the stairs.  The punctuated beat of his boot heels rang down the passage like the strokes of a clock.  It was time for Blackwood to pay…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Suzanne stepped inside the Cottage, closed the front door, then yawned.  She looked to the older housekeeper.  "I guess I should stay up long enough to see if Harrison survives."

          Mrs. Pennyworth smiled again.  "I'll get us some coffee.  It shouldn't take long."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Blackwood!"

          Harrison and Norton both looked up from the printout draped across half of the workstation.

          "Ah, Colonel," the astrophysicist said, "good to see you're back, we've—"

          "I want a word with you, mister."

          "Fine, but right now—"

          "Right now is right!"

          "Right," Harrison repeated, tapping the paper.  "Right now we think we have a lead on—"

          "In my office, Doctor!"

          Blackwood looked up, confusion slowly shifting to understanding on his face.  "Ah, you're upset about what happened," he summed up.

          "Upset?" the colonel queried, his voice tightly controlled.  "Upset?  Me?  What should I be upset about?  I was arrested, fingerprinted, photographed, and _then_ they called General Wilson!"

          "And he got you out," Harrison completed the scenario for the colonel.  "Just like I knew he would."

          "You turned me in, mister!" the soldier exploded.

          "Yes.  I did," Blackwood admitted.

          Norton maneuvered Gertrude closer to his coffee pot and out of the way of any assault the colonel might launch.

          Ironhorse took a clipped step closer to the scientist.  "Why?"

          Blackwood turned and leaned back against the workstation, his arms folded across his chest.  "Well, it was clear that the M.P.'s weren't buying a word you were saying, so I just slipped out of the hanger with Suzanne, hid, and made a call on the mobile…"

          "And _what_ did you say?"

          "That you were a rogue Army colonel with a grudge against the Air Force."

          "What?!"

          "It worked, didn't it?" Harrison continued.  "They arrested you and I was able to get back into the building and pick up a few artifacts that might be useful, not to mention the beam arm from one of the exploded warships."

          "That's _not_ the point!" the colonel bellowed.  "We're supposed to be a team, Blackwood.  Do you have any idea what that means?"

          "Of course—"

          "It means that we work _together_.  That we watch each other's backs.  That we _don't_ get each other arrested!"  He took two steps, stopping just short of Blackwood's chest, then leaned further into the man's personal space.  "And we sure as hell don't jeopardize the security of this mission by exposing it to the Air Force!"

          Blackwood's lips quirked into a smile.  "You really don't like the Air Force much, do you, Colonel?"

          "My personal feelings about the Air Farce have nothing to do with it!  General Wilson had to tell somebody at the top the truth to get me released!  That's one more variable in the equation that we can't keep track of!"

          Harrison considered.

          "He's got you there, Doc," Norton said quietly, then took a sip of his latest blend.  "We are top secret."

          Blackwood nodded.  "Okay, so maybe I didn't handle the situation very well—"

          "Maybe?" the colonel growled.

          "All right, so I didn't handle the situation well," Harrison admitted.  "But you have to admit, it worked.  We have more information now."

          Ironhorse sighed.  It was useless.  The man simply didn't get it.  _Well_ , he thought.  _He will.  Sooner or later, he will.  I just hope I don't kill him first._


End file.
